


Mirror, Mirror

by callous_and_misunderstood



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Anyways, Evie cuts her hair, F/F, Hair, Haircuts, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Non-Graphic Violence, Self-Worth Issues, about her mother, also a lot of self doubt, and about mal, but watch out, evie deals with her feelings, evie gets the bisexual bob, identity crisis, mirrors galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callous_and_misunderstood/pseuds/callous_and_misunderstood
Summary: Evie has a breakdown and chops off her hair
Relationships: Jaylos (background), malvie - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Mirror, Mirror

Evie stands in front of the mirror.

This is not a new place for her to be. In fact, if she didn’t associate this place so heavily with her mother, she would find it calming, familiar.   
But she is in Auradon, in her dorm room bathroom, far from her mother’s commentary that always left her feeling plucked raw, like the naked birds that made it to the marketplace. Something to be bought, devoured.

It's nearly midnight. The witching hour. Or rather, the hour the magic dies. A new hour begins with the chiming clocks and suddenly everything falls into its true form. Rotting pumpkins and girls who aren't as pretty as they pretended.

Evie is pretty. 

She has to be. That's all she's ever had. Her face. Her body. Her hair. All altered with products, of course. Natural beauty isn't real. That's for fairy tales and people who get named Snow White. Not for Evie, who is named for her mother's villainous title—Evil Queen. Evelyn. Evil Queen. Evie. They were the same, a reflection looking at a reflection. But not anymore. 

Evie is looking in the mirror in her dorm bathroom in Auradon, the land of pretty pink princesses and perfect princes. And she doesn't want to be a princess anymore. She doesn't want a prince or a castle or anyone to ever say she's beautiful ever again. 

Not unless Mal is the one saying it. 

Because Mal is nothing like Evie. Mal is angry and stubborn and bold. She wears clothes for comfort and mobility. She laughs loudly, with her mouth open, teeth bared. And even though her hand is steady with a can of spray paint, her eyeliner always comes out crooked. And she doesn't redo it. She leaves it, flawed. Mal isn’t perfect. And Evie loves her because that's what scares Evie the most. 

After Snow White, it was not enough to just be fairest. Evie had to be perfect. 

Everyone knows perfect isn't real. Because if the world were perfect, there wouldn't be the Isle. There wouldn't be villains or heroes to begin with. Perfect would have meant Evie would have been able to please her mother. Perfect meant Mal would be in love with her, not Ben. It was a wretched twist of fate that Mal got herself a prince instead of Evie. All it proved was that Evie wasn’t enough, wasn’t _perfect_.

Evie is looking in the mirror and holding a pair of very sharp scissors. They aren't her best pair; those she uses only on tough fabrics, like the red leather she bought to make Carlos a jacket after he finally grew out of the one he’d been wearing for five years. No, she is holding the scissors she brought with her from the Isle, the ones that are pointed enough to draw blood. A trusted tool. Familiar.

She takes a shaky breath. Evie has decided she needs to do something drastic. Something symbolic. Bold. What does she have to lose? 

She opens and closes the scissors on empty air, leaning towards her reflection. She stops when her nose brushes glass and lets her short breaths fog the mirror, dreading what she will see. Every flaw on her face stands for attention, a role call in her mind, and she squeezes her eyes shut tight, swallowing the burn of tears rising in her throat.

Still, even without looking, her mother’s voice echoes in her mind, pointing out what Evie had just seen. That gentle voice, with words so steely they could not be brushed off. The voice that had read her bedtime stories but also told her she was nothing without a man, worthless unless she was pretty.

Her pores were too big, she’d need to do a face mask that stung and pulled at her skin tighter. A few stray eyebrow hairs would need to be plucked one by one. Her lips were almost chapped, she’d need to apply a balm soon and drink cup after cup of water. And her cheeks…they were round and rosy. But she wasn’t wearing make-up and they weren’t supposed to be so round. She needed to eat less, look paler so she could apply the perfect amount of blush, hide her tendency to flush. And on. And on.

Trembling, eyes still closed, Evie floundered for the bathroom light switch. She would do this in the dark, where she was safe from herself. She flicked off the lights and opened her eyes.

There she was, in the mirror. No light to pick herself apart with. Just a shape, a shadow. Something unrecognizable.

Another shaky breath. Evie wound the handful of hair near her face into her fist, then pressed the scissor blades to just below her chin.

 _Snip_.

She was holding her hair, and it was no longer connected to her head. Evie let out a strangled noise, half cry and half laugh. She let the clump of hair fall to the ground ungracefully. What had she done?

Then, frantically, afraid that if she stopped, she wouldn’t start again, Evie began to hack off her hair.

_Snip. Snip. Snip._

_Snip. Snip._

_Snip._

Sooner than Evie had expected, she was standing in a pile of dark blue hair. All the hair that had been below her chin was on the floor, all twelve inches of it.

It had taken her years to get it to that length, her mother insistent that long hair was best, even on the Isle. It was Jay who had taught her how to quickly tie up their long tresses or tuck it under a beanie to avoid it being used against them in fights. And in return, Evie had taught Jay how to use his hair to flirt, distracting his victims from the hands that robbed them.

But now her hair, her beautiful, blue hair was gone.

Locking her jaw to keep from crying out, Evie turned back on the lights to look at herself. Her vision was blurry from tears she had been holding back and she roughly wiped her eyes, glad she was doing this late at night, with nowhere to go afterwards but bed.

As if on cue, the school’s clock tower began to chime. It was midnight.

Evie counted the lolling tones as she stared at herself. The only thing different was her hair length, but she wasn’t sure if she knew the girl in the mirror.

The reflection looked vulnerable, bare. Her neck was exposed for the first time since she was a toddler and Evie felt goosebumps raise.

The haircut was uneven, a hack job really. It wasn’t pretty. She would have to have the boys come over and help her tidy it up in the morning, make it look more intentional and less desperate.

Because that’s what this was. A desperate action, Evie begging to let go of her mother’s demands and _live_ , be something other than pretty and perfect.

Pretty and perfect. She looked at the hair on the floor, her last chance at that. She wasn’t pretty anymore, and she had never been perfect. Her chest ached like something was sitting on her. She gasped for air; head tilted back to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Her free hand gripped the sink, knuckles going white.

Her other hand, the one Evie was grasping the scissors with, itched and burned. She didn’t want to cut off more of her hair, but she wanted something to hurt, something to show. Sometimes she envied Carlos and his museum of scars from his mother. Anyone could see his pain. But Evie’s was all inside, all twisted around her brain like thorns, sitting in her heart like poison.

Her vision blurred and her body trembled furiously, a lone leaf on a winter tree. She ground her teeth, trying not to scream in frustration. _If only she had been pretty enough. If only she had been pretty enough! If only she was pretty!_

It took all of Evie’s remaining energy to set the scissors down.

She left the bathroom, turning off the lights, and leaving the pile of hair on the floor. Slowly Evie felt her way to her bed and crawled under the soft sheets. She pulled the comforter over her head, curling into a tight ball, arms wrapped around herself. She couldn’t stop the tears from spilling anymore, not when she was laying down and gravity was working against her. So, she let them fall. There was nothing left for her to maintain. Her hair was gone, she wasn’t pretty anymore. It didn’t matter if she woke up with puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks. She wasn’t pretty anymore.

Evie cried herself to sleep.

* * *

Evie wakes up later than she normally would. She blinks slowly at the sunlight streaming into the room and rolls on to her back, stretching. She goes to run a hand through her hair and freezes.

“Fuck,” she says out loud.

Evie looks to Mal’s empty bed. Mal is at Ben’s this weekend, another chance to show off his reformed villain girlfriend to important people. Evie huffs and returns her attention to her hair.

She touches it hesitantly, almost afraid it will bite her. It doesn’t. In fact, it’s still as soft and silky as it was before she cut it. She pulls out the hand mirror she keeps tucked in between the headboard and mattress, trying to assess how much damage control was needed.

In the small glimpses of the hand mirror, Evie thought she looked…nice. With a little bit of styling, she could definitely make this bob work. She fiddled with the back, which was slightly shorter than the rest. Sighing, she reached for her phone. She needed someone to help her even that out.

 _Come over_ , she texted just Jay and Carlos. _ASAP_.

Her stomach growled lightly. Ignoring her mother's voice reminding her not to eat, she sends a follow up message. 

_Bring breakfast._

Evie had just changed into a pair of jeans and a top when the boys rapped on her door. She opened it, her nerves on the fritz.

“Hey, E!” Jay sang, pushing past Evie to place three steaming cups of coffee on the table. “What’s happening!”

Carlos followed, closing the door behind him.

“Oh…Evie…” Carlos breathed out in shock as soon as he looked at her.

Evie moaned and sank into a chair, covering her face with her hands. That was not a good response.

“What?” Jay demanded, spinning away from the food and running to Evie’s side. “Oh. Evie.”

Evie groaned again.

“Hey,” Jay said softly, pulling her hands away from her face. “You cut your hair.”

“Well, duh,” Evie sniffed, trying to stay in control of her emotions. Jay rubbed soothing circles across the back of her hands with his thumbs, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Carlos approached her slowly, sitting in the chair next to her. He titled his head to the side, the way he always did when he was considering something.

“I like it,” Carlos announced after a pause that made Evie’s heart nearly burst out of her chest.

Evie just looked at him with tearful eyes.

“It’s good,” Carlos insisted, standing and walking around Evie, taking it all in. “We can even it out, then you’ll be able to style it. Headbands are in right now, and it’s still long enough for you to do your little braids.”

Evie sighed, letting Carlos talk her into logical thinking. He always knew what she needed.

Jay nodded in agreement with Carlos, looking at Evie intently.

“I like seeing all of your face,” Jay added. Then with a smirk, he added, “You look badass.”

Evie giggled at that. There was no way her panic-driven hack job was badass, but she was feeling more confident with what she’d done.

“Hair always grows back,” Jay reminded her, handing her a blueberry muffin. “Remember when I got gum in mine?”

“Correction, Hook _put_ gum in your hair. Evil, you acted like you’d been sliced open. He always knew how to hit you where it hurt. And then, remember, you wouldn’t stay still while Evie cut it out?” Carlos continued the story, grinning. “So, she had to give you an impromptu side bang?”

Evie smiled, remembering how she’d salvaged Jay’s hair.

“Hey, the bang was cool,” Jay insisted, blowing on his coffee. They all knew it hadn’t been, but as Jay had said, it grew back.

“Alright, eat, and then we’ll get you evened out,” Carlos said firmly, giving Evie’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and took the coffee Jay handed to her.

Evie let the boys chatter about classes and school gossip over breakfast, trying to keep herself centered. She’d cut her hair. She’d deal with the aftermath. _It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine_.

The three finished eating and Jay cleaned up while Carlos began setting up a hair salon in the bathroom. He gently collected all of Evie’s hair from the night before in a plastic bag, knowing better than to throw it out without asking. Then he pulled a chair in and turned on the sink, waiting for the water to warm up.

“Come on in,” Carlos gestured to Evie, who was staring into space on her bed.

“Oh,” she said, snapping back. She joined Carlos in the bathroom.

“Jay, get me some towels.”

“Uh-uh, magic word?”

“Magic word?” Carlos rolled his eyes. But Jay didn’t move, so Carlos added, “Please, Jay bring some towels.”

With a wink at Evie, Jay scooped up a pile of fresh towels and handed them to the other boy.

“Thank you,” Carlos said sarcastically, taking one and wrapping it around Evie’s shoulders. “Okay, E, lean back.”

Evie did as he told her, leaning her head into the sink. It wasn’t as comfortable as one of the salon chairs, but it definitely beat having her hair washed by her mother in their kitchen sink on the Isle. Carlos rubbed her scalp gently as Jay perched on the side of the tub, humming. Once Evie’s hair was wet enough for Carlos to work with, he shifted her up and began to comb it.

“No shorter, right?” Carlos asked her as he held up the scissors she’d used last night.

“No,” Evie agreed. “Please no shorter.”

Carlos began to trim the ends, his hands steady as he worked to even out the length.

“So,” Jay said, looking at Evie. “Why’d you do it?”

Carlos shot Jay a look but waited for Evie’s answer.

Evie sighed deeply.

“I just…my mother,” she began, unsure if she wanted to broach the sensitive subject of Mal. She was done crying but she was still emotional. “I can’t look in the mirror without her critiquing me and I just. Wanted to do something to make her let go of me. I don’t want to be her perfect daughter anymore.”

Both Carlos and Jay nodded, very familiar with parental expectations.

“And my hair….it seemed like the…safest thing to mess with.”

The three were quiet for a moment, just the even sound of _snipsnipsnip_ as Carlos worked on Evie’s hair filling the bathroom.

“Anything else?” Carlos pressed. He wasn’t going to make her answer, but he and Jay knew there was more to what had driven Evie to chop off her prized possession.

Evie swallowed thickly.

“Mal,” she mumbled, not meeting anyone’s eyes and staring down into her lap.

“Mal?” Jay questioned. He knew Evie liked Mal but that didn’t seem like a reason to cut off your hair.

“I…I love her, okay?” Evie huffed, leaning forwards, though there was no annoyance directed towards Jay. She was irked with herself. “I love her, but I wasn’t enough. Not pretty enough or perfect enough. And now she’s with Ben, who’s actually perfect! So, yeah. Mal.”

Carlos resumed trimming her hair once she sat back into the chair, exhausted. Jay chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. But neither boy said anything, and Evie was sure that meant they were agreeing with her. That they knew she hadn’t been pretty or perfect enough for Mal.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Carlos said after a long moment.

“What?” Evie sighed, feeling defeated. “What am I wrong about?”

“Mal doesn’t want perfect.”

“Of course she does,” Evie protested, “It’s what she deserves.”

Jay shook his head, a small smile tracing his lips.

“That’s exactly what Mal said about you. That she wasn’t perfect enough for you.”

Evie’s jaw dropped and she turned in bewilderment towards Jay.

“What?” she said again.

“Mal loves you, Evie,” Carlos said evenly, like it was completely obvious.

Evil, Evie wanted it to be true so badly. Mal was her best friend, and she was funny and smart and cute, even when she snored. But for Mal to love her back…it just seemed improbable. 

“But…what about Ben?” Evie fumbled, her mind reeling.

The boys exchanged another glance, though the meaning was lost on Evie, who looked between them frantically.

“What about Ben?” Evie asked again, as if the King of Auradon was the only thing stopping her from hunting Mal down and kissing her within an inch of her life right this second.

“Mal didn’t tell you?” Carlos asked, surprised.

“Apparently not,” Evie huffed in annoyance. She and Mal didn’t keep secrets. Well, unless it was about them being in love with each other, it seemed.

“Ben broke up with her,” Jay said. “I mean, it was pretty mutual, Mal had been putting it off. And then Ben finally did it.”

“There’s no bad blood or anything,” Carlos continued. “But they both agreed they would be better off as friends, especially since Mal is still adjusting to Auradon. She doesn’t want to have to learn how to rule it on top of learning how to live here. And Ben, well. The love spell and wand thing hurt him more than he let on, I think. It’s a bit hard to trust someone once they admit to trying to take over the country.”

“But we didn’t,” Jay piped in. “And we’re good now. Reformed, even.”

“Still,” Carlos shrugged, turning back to Evie’s hair.

“How long have they been broken up?” Evie asked, racking her brain for signs of the split. She hadn’t actually seen Mal much that week. Midterms were coming up, along with a spring formal. Evie had been swamped with taking orders and designing dresses for the event.

“Less than a week,” Jay told her.

Evie fumed for a minute about the fact that her best friend hadn’t told her she’d been dumped. Evie was so good at post-break up stuff! The ice cream and silly movies and making fun of the ex!

“Wait. So, where is she this weekend? She told me she was at Ben’s.”

“That is where she is,” Carlos explained reassuringly. “There was this event that Ben couldn’t reschedule where Mal is the guest of honor. But it was more about having Maleficent’s daughter there than Ben’s girlfriend, so Mal agreed to go. Some kind of political display of trust.”

“Oh,” Evie said. She genuinely didn’t know what to do now.

“There,” Carlos announced, brushing a strand of hair from Evie’s face. “All done. Take a look, princess.”

Evie gulped, remembering what she was doing in the bathroom with the boys in the first place. Slowly, she stood up and turned to the mirror.

Carlos had done a good job—her hair was stacked neatly, resting just above her chin, parted down the middle. She turned from side to side, examining herself. She liked the bounce of her hair when she moved. She put a finger to her lips and frowned, staring hard at herself. She looked…good. Maybe even…cute.

Jay and Carlos appeared over her shoulders in the mirror. Carlos leaned his head against Evie and wrapped an arm around her waist, giving her a tight squeeze.

“You look great, E,” Jay said, beaming. “I like it a lot.”

Evie turned away from the mirror, pleased that her mother’s voice had nothing to say about her new hairstyle.

“Thanks, Jay. I think I do too,” she said warmly, letting her smile reach from rosy cheek to rosy cheek.


End file.
